What a guy
by Belamancer
Summary: A Red Dwarfdiscworldhitchhikergod knows what crossover. Fifth chapter now up, and some old friends come to visit.
1. Meetings and Stuff

Before you read this, I'd better warn you, it's strange, confusing, strange, almsot entirely plotless, uhm, strange again, and, well, a little bit off the wall. Oh yeah, and it's my first-ish fic, so be kind and review.

So, here we go then.

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In a dark and gloomy room a man lay asleep. The room wasn't simply messy, it had long since gone throguh the stage of being messy, and come through the other side. It looked worse than if it had been hit by a bomb. In fact, it couldn't have looked worse if it had been singed by a dragon, drastically altered by several strange spells gone haywire, and then left empty for a period of not less than five years before having a large quantity of spare luggage and baggage thrown carelessly into the corner, which was in fact what had happened to it. In one corner there was a massive ancient warderobe, of the sort which young children often explore hopefully, having read somewhere that old warderobes are the doorways to strange new worlds where animals talk and so on. On top of the warderobe was a large metal bound box, like a treasure chest. It was snoring, making a sound like a log being sawn, or possibly that was the guy in the bed, it was difficult to tell. 

There was a noise. It sounded rather like someone was knocking heavily on the door, which was less than amazing, as that was what it was. The sleeping man woke up and screamed, or possibly the other way around, and sat up blinking blearily. There was a voice from the other side of the door. "Rincewind! Rincewind! Wake up!". The man, presumably called Rincewind, snapped awake imeadiately and glared apprehensively at the door. "Why?" he queried. "You're wanted in the archancellor's office right now! You'd better run!" Rincewind looked puzzeled and shouted back, "That's exactly what I was thinking!" before quickly pulling clothes on and opening the door to reveal a very scared looking student wizard. The student squeaked and stepped back, looking nervously around behind Rincewind, who nodded. "Thanks, I was forgetting." Rincewind whistled and the large snoring trunk jumped down from the top of the warderobe and stretched on hundreds of little pink feet, before running after the wizards as they followed winding corridors down to the Archanellor's office. 

Rincewind grinned at the student. "So, you got any idea what this is about then?" 

The student shook his head mutely, then opened the door, motioning for him to enter. Rincewind then did a very stupid thing. As Rincewind's bad decisions go it ranked about seventeenth, just above eating salty beer soup in a hot desert, but below comparing a gigantic red dragon with a rampaging flying elephant*. 

He went into the archancellor's office. 

It had changed somewhat since he'd last been in it. For one thing it had decidedly less paperwork. 

For another thing it had a large gaping hole in the wall, which was burned around the edges. Currently occupying all of the room inside the hole, and much of the room outside of it also, was a, a, a big shiny metalish thingy with burn marks on it. Rincewind gaped at it. It was very shiny, and sort of streamlined, with what looked like a big window in the front. Peering into the window Rincewind was surprised to see what looked like a small chair inside, just about big enough for one person, or two if they really squashed. On the side of the, the thing, he could just about make out a sort of coat arms kind of thingy. It was a sort of loop with stars in it, and slightly scorched words which read "Space Corps". Rincewind stared at it for a moment longer before a movement behind him made him spin around, hair triggered and poised at any momnet to run like hell. 

The archancellor was standing by the pool table that he preffered to use as a desk, so that he could keep things in the pockets. Next to him was stood . . . 

Rincewind stared at the new person in abject shock. The person smiled at him in a freindly way and reached out to shake hands. Mesmerised Rincewind shook hands with the person, and then surreptisiously tried to massage some feeling back into his fingers. The archancellor smiled at him in a rather jovial way. "So, Racewind, you finally decided to drag yourself down here, hmm?" The archancellor nodded at the new hole in his wall. "I see you've noticed the new wallpaper I had the students put up? Of course," he added, seeing Rincewind's look of bewildered disbelief, "I suspect that I may have to have it re-done, what with the, er hole in the wall and everything. Of course, I may not bother, it is after all extermely healthy. Almost as healthy as living outdoors, not that you people would know anything about that, hah, indeed, catch any of the, uhm, faculty outside the grounds. Anyway, " he nodded meaningfully at the mystery person, " I'll just, I'll just leave you chaps to get aquainted, shall I?" he nodded again at Rincewind and left hurriedly. 

The mystery person smiled at Rincewind. "The name's Ace, and I realise that this may come as a bit of a shock, but I'm-" 

"You're me, aren't you." Rincewind was staring at "Ace" like all his nightmares were coming true at once, even the one about the scissors, and, you know, the syrupy rabbits, and "Ace" looked a little put out by that, like he wasn't used to it. 

To an outsider it would have presented a very peculiar picture, Rincewind realised. After all, how often do you get to see a wizard come face to face with what looked like his more attaractive, perhaps, and certainly more irritating twin brother, and not look totally gobsmackingly surprised? Not very often, I can tell you. 

In fact, Rincewind was surprised, he just wasn't that surprised that he was going to go around looking gormless when he could practice his best evil withering glares. He'd often thought that there must be, somewhere, a sort of anti-Rincewind, someone who got all the breaks that he'd been denied, who was good at magic, or whatever the local equivalent was, someone who didn't remind other people of an intelligent rodent, someone in fact who was the opposite of him, who proved that Rincewind could have done really well if he'd only had the breaks. Which just proved how basically wrong he was, but never mind, he'll find out soon enough. 

"Ace", a.k.a. Arnold Rimmer, stared at the new, er, specimin. He was having serious doubts about his mision now, even though it had made so much sense before he left. After an anonimous tip from a, what was it the other Ace had said, a very reliable source, that something really big and nasty was going to happen and that Ace would need all of the help that he could get, he'd recruited Rimmer early, and told him to go out to this little pathetic dimensional backwater and search out his double. After all, Ace had said, science is all very well, but magic, well, magic would be so useful in one of those difficult situations, and imagine what another Ace would be able to do if he could do magic, so why don't you see what you can pick up, my old tangerine. And Rimmer had gone, because regardless of how much he disliked Ace, no matter how much the guy was an irritating smeghead, and no matter how much just listening to the guy's smug, "Smoke me a kipper" smeg set his teeth on edge, he knew that the universe apparently needed someone like him. And now it needed more than one, a whole load of someones like him. Like him being the operative word, of course. The original Ace Rimmer, or possibly Rimmers, no-one knew exactly how many Rimmers had piloted the trans-dimensional craft Wildfire in all of the many different dimensions, had died long ago, and been replaced by his hologram, who had in turn been replaced by another hologram, this one of a different Rimmer, who had been replaced by another Rimmer, who had been replaced by, well you get the idea. 

But this one looked different. He was very skinny, and looked permanently poised to run away. Not that that was much different from the other Rimmers he'd met, of course, but this one looked as if he could probably put on a fair turn of speed. And he had scars. A man, if he was anything like the other Rimmers he'd met, a man who was terrified of his own shadow should not be so heavily scarred as this one, although from the archancellor's rather vague descriptions of the man's life he had already saveed the world a few times over. What was the old man had said? "Trouble follows him behind, or at least that was what Dean said, or was it the one about the little pink legs, oh bloody hell, I can't be expected to remember all this." Rimmer frowned as he spotted movement, just in the corner of his eye. He turned to look, but all he could see was a large metal bound treasure chest, which he was certain hadn't seen before. 

Rincewind fixed the man with his most withering glare. Whilst he had devoted some time to the thought of what he would do if he ever met his double, his thoughts had mostly been quite detailed involving large planks of wood with nails in, and perhaps even a hammer. How could anyone be so incredibly irritating and not realise it? The man had barely spoken to him, and he'd already gotten to the stressed-Eric state of mind where the little vein in his forehead was threatening to start visibly throbbing. Oh gods, now he was going to speak to him. Rincewind gritted his teeth. 

"So, you like curry? Lager? Vindaloo sandwiches? Electric guitar music?" Rincewind shook his head. "Thank god for that, I was begining to wonder if you were the right bloke. You people have pubs round here? Beer? You drink, yes?" Rincewind nodded silently. "Thank god." The man sighed with releif. "So, what's you're name? As if I didn't already know, it's Rimmer, right?" 

"No, actually it's not." 

"What? So what is it then?"

Rincewind grinned unpleasantly at the other man's surprise. "Actually," he said, carefully drawing out each sylabul with painstaking precision, "it's Rincewind." 

"Rincewind? Oh well, I guess it was bound to happen sometime. Is that a first name or last name?" 

"Both." 

Rimmer quirked an eyebrow at him. "So you're called Rincewind Rincewind? You must've had especially evil parents. My real name's Arnold, Arnold Rimmer." 

"What happened to "Ace"?" Rincewind smirked at "Arnold's discomfort. 

"Well, um, oh hell, I'll level with you. Ace was this guy, like an alternate version of me, and you of course, and he was a hero type, you know, always saving the world and stuff. Well, he figured out this way to travel between dimensions, and he went aroung saving universe and stuff. And so on, untill one day he got sick, really bad, and he had to find a replacement, because the universe needs a hero. So he found another Rimmer, cos he was a Rimmer too, and he taught this Rimmer, the new one, he taught him how to save the universe and stuff. So it started, and of course when the new Ace got injured he found a replacement, and everything was hunky-dory. Until one day, about two months ago, and Ace finds me. And explains, he's recruited me early, because this guy he knew, some dimension travelling guy, told him that there was going to be something really bad happening soon. SO Ace decided he needed more than just one Rimmer, so he sent me out to recruit some more. That's why I'm not so good at this, you see. And you're the next one." 

Rincewind stared at him. "No." He said. "No, you can't make me, I don't see why you'd want to try anyway, it's bad enough having to save this world without going looking for more trouble, no way, I'm not doing it. No, not now, not ever, not again, goodbye and no thank you for the offer." Rincewind said this all in one long garbled breath, then ran. He ran in the sure and certain knowledge that staying behind would mean being roped into another blasted adventure, and because of this he ran possibly faster than he'd ever run before. In fact, he ran so fast that because of the strange distorting and slowing effects of magic on light, Rimmer felt the inrush of air before he saw Rincewind even move. Then he swore, graphically cursing Ace Rimmer and his amazing blasted smegging plans, the smeghead that he was, and ran after him.

Behind them the luggage sat down on it's little legs. As far as it's possible to tell with a peice of luggage, it looked quite smug and pleased with itself.

*I don't know exactly what should be first on Rincewind's list of stupid things he has done, but I'd hazard a guess and say that it's probably something along the lines of, "decided to become a native guide for a small smiling man in glasses from the Agatian Empire", or possibly even, "decided to become a wizard". If he did ever decide about the wizard thing, I'm not so sure about that one.

P.S. Sorry about the elephant, I just couldn't help myself. At least it wasn't purple.

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Well, there you go! Oh yeah, and by the way, in case you didn't know, I own nothing except for the plot, such as it is, and a few original characters which will almost certainly pop in later, hah, yes indeed, try and keep them out. Or rather, don't.


	2. Personality is contagious

Rimmer puffed to a halt after five minutes or so, glaring at the rapidly retreating figure. It wasn't fair. He'd always been so bad at sports and running in particular, why should his double be so damned good at it? Even "Ace" wasn't this good at running, he thought. This Rincewind smegger, he ran like some sort of animal, like an antelope or zebra or something that only stops running when it runs into something else. 

Rimmer stooped as he tried to catch his breath. So now what now? He'd explained it to him, and he had not only failed to get his interest, regardless of what Ace had said, and now he would have to go back to the Dwarf empty handed. The huge and terrifying prospect of failure loomed once more over him. Always he'd been a failure. At school, at work, trying to become an officer, trying to stay out of trouble, hah, he'd always failed at that one, and now he was about to completely fail, spectacularly fail, at being an "Ace" Rimmer. 

An unexpected and worryingly ominous noise interrupted his internal ranting. He listened to it carefully without turning around. Schulp. Schulp. Schulp. Schulp schulp schulp schulp schulp schulpschulpschulp-

He turned around. Sitting in the middle of the floor, where it had definitely not been before, and radiating innocence, was the same massive brassbound wooden chest he had noticed before. It was looking at him, and even though it had no eyes to look with or face to make expressions with he felt certain that it was looking expectantly at him. He shrugged and turned away. Expectant chests were the least of his worries right now, and after examining that sentence in his head and enjoying the interesting imagery it conjured, he reached into a pocket and pulled something out. 

It was small and compact. Had Rincewind seen it he might recognised it, although he wouldn't be able to say what it was exactly. If commander Vimes of the City Watch had seen it he would have known what it was, and he would also have made certain that Rimmer spent at least several weeks explaining, in detail, exactly how and where he got it before handing him over to the Patrician. 

Both of them would have been wrong, however. The device that Rimmer drew from his pocket was neither a gonne nor an amulet. It was a tranquilliser dart gun. Rimmer carefully steadied his arms and fired it. Poof! A tiny dart loaded with heavy tranquillisers slammed into Rincewind's left shoulder. He continued running for a full three minutes before the trank took affect and he gradually stumbled to the floor, legs still twitching as he tried to run away. 

Rimmer smirked unpleasantly then picked him up carefully. He was suprisingly light and felt very thin, which was fortunate for Rimmer because otherwise he would not have been able to pick him up. He then carried Rincewind, who was by now snoring quite heavily, back to the Wildfire II Trans-Dimensional ship and settled him on the small passenger seat behind the pilot's seat. 

The world became an unpleasant orangey-white noisy place as Rimmer reversed the ship out of the Archancellor's study, clumsily scraping the side of it on the wall as he went. 

In the middle of the floor the Luggage watched with interest, as far as it is possible to tell with wood. It raised itself up on hundreds of tiny little pink legs and began to run. The interesting thing about this is that it did not in fact appear to move at all from the point of view of anyone who can only see into the usual three dimensions. From the point of view of someone watching in all eleven it was obvious what it was doing as it ran on the spot getting up speed and then disappeared. 

Something else happened, as the dust settled in the room and the ship became a distant comet in the thundery sky. Three . . . things appeared. They weren't betentacled monstrosities the likes of which are seen so often within the university that students have taken to ignoring them and sending the bledlows to deal with them. They didn't appear with an impressive bang or flash or puff of smoke. In fact, it was more like they had been there the whole time and had only now chosen to become visible. Before all this wonderful description interrupted the flow of the story I suggested that there might have been an unseen observer in the room, and in a way I suppose that that is what these were. They were, are and probably will continue to be the Auditors. They check on reality, making sure that everything is nice and tidy and properly accounted for. They look like empty grey robes, and they also look quite harmless. Looks are often deceiving, especially in this case. The only things that keep them under control are the Rules. They like rules. And one of the things which annoys them most of all is that life doesn't obey rules. They don't like life. They think it makes things untidy. 

One of them changed reality so that it had spoken. They don't like speaking either.

It said, they are out of place.

One said, yes. If something is not done there will be questions asked.

One said, so it is agreed. We must do something.

One said, but the rules forbid it.

One said, yes.

One said, so we cannot.

One said, yes we can.

One said, I don't see how we can if the rules forbid it. There are no loopholes or ways around this one. I've looked.

One said, nastily, oh you have, have you?

One said, yes, I have.

One said, you said "I".

One said, so? I can if I want to.

One said, you have a personality! to have a personality is to end! 

One said, I know. 

One said, so?

One said, It doesn't necessarily mean to end **now**.

One said, personality is unacceptable. you should end. now.

One said, no.

One said, stop this. personality is weakness. 

One said, I know, I- There was a little noise, like a dust mote exploding into flame, and the robe burnt and was instantly replaced with another which looked identical. 

One said, it is happening more often now. there is an imbalance.

One said, it needs dealing with.

One said, that one lasted longer than any of the others.

One said, there are things to be dealt with. this world takes up most of our time.

One said, why don't we check on _this_ one.

One said, that looks interesting. maybe we should ask them for advice. 

One said, perhaps.

They disappeared and an empty room became slightly emptier.

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Well, that was fun. Sorry for the shortness of this chapter, my p.c. has the hiccups and it won't let me do much. Damned technology. 

Blame it on the mushroom fairies. Or the cats, of course.

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	3. What did I do to Deserve this in the Aft...

Chapter 3

Just a brief note first.  Yes, I know I haven't updated this story is years, but I've finally figured out what I want to do with it.  In order to do this, I've had to move it from the Discworld section, but don't worry, it's still the same story.  It's just a bit longer, and a lot stranger.

It's also become a bigger x-over than it was, involving more people.  But that just makes it more fun…

Incidentally, the Hitchhiker's Guide bits are set after Mostly Harmless. If you haven't read this one, you're not missing much.  It's confusing and ends annoyingly.  This point is, the Earth just got blown up by Vogons and Arthur and Ford and everybody are all dead.  Or so they thought…

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Arthur Dent struggled to remain unconscious despite his pounding head.  In some distant region of his mind he was certain he was dead.  The mind is said to form peculiar connections when one has a near-death experience, so Arthur reasoned that he was allowed to form strange connections now.  After all, how much nearer to death could you get than being dead?

He thought about things for a while, with his eyes shut.  He'd led a good, if more than a little confusing, life.  He'd met aliens, been shot at by aliens, nearly killed hundreds of times, seen the wonders of the galaxy, met the man who ruled the universe, ridden mysterious phase-shifting buffalo.  He'd been to the restaurant at the end of the universe, listened(he shuddered at the memory) to Vogon poetry, heard Elvis live in a burger bar… He stopped a minute, then shook his head.  Whatever, that point was, he'd had a good, long life, or at least it had seemed long, and now he was dead.  

Well, his inner voice said, that's not so bad.  You should be somewhere better anyway.  He smiled, sat up and opened his eyes.

And screamed.  There was something horrible in front of him.  A huge, terrible lumpy monstrosity with patterns of light and shade highlighting terrible tufts of frazzled hair and a sort of lumpish thing in the middle which seemed oddly familiar.  

It was a nose. 

 He stared at it.  His brain wasn't working terribly well, what with all the thumping and everything.  Was it his nose? Was that why it seemed familiar? 

He reached up to check if it was in fact his nose, and it swam out of view again.  

He stared some more, and gradually it came back into focus.  It was a nose, and it had a face.  Or rather, the face surrounding it had a nose.  He stared at the face for a moment, and it broke into a wide grin at him.  

"Oh god, no…"  He recognised that face.  

"Hey! Arthur! You're awake!"  Ford Prefect grinned at him some more, liking the effect, then stopped.  Arthur sighed.  He couldn't be dead.  He had led, he reasoned, a relatively blameless life*, and didn't expect things like this to happen after he was dead.  

"So.  We're not dead." Ford rolled his eyes at him.  One of the most irritating habits which most humans shared was their amazing ability to blindly state the obvious, and despite years of Arthur being forced into absurd situations, time and again, he still hadn't broken the habit.  

"No, we're not.  But I don't know where we are."  Arthur frowned.  

"On a ship?"  

"Well, obviously, but I don't know what kind of ship.  I've never seen a ship like this before.  And look at this."  He passed a mug to Arthur.  There was a logo on it, one he'd never seen before. It said 'Jupiter Mining Corporation'.  He frowned. 

"What's so odd about that?" Ford rolled his eyes again.  He really was quite good at it.

"Just look at it, will you?"  Arthur obediently looked, then shrugged.  

"It's just a mug.  Says 'Jupiter Mining Corporation' on the side."  

"Exactly!" Ford waved his arms excitedly, and Arthur looked blank.

"So, it's a mining ship.  Is that good or bad?"  Ford groaned.

"It's not just any mining ship.  Just look at the mug.  Tell me what's strange about it."  Arthur turned it over in his hands.  

"Says 'made in Taiwan' on the bottom." He observed.

"Yes! And that means…" He grinned at Arthur expectantly.   

Arthur shrugged helplessly.  

"They buy their crockery cheap?"  Ford had had enough.

"You really are an idiot, aren't you?  It's written in English, you pillock.  That's why you can read it.  And made in Taiwan, which is a place on Earth."

"This is an Earth ship?"  Ford nodded.

"Must be. All the signs are in English, too.  We must have travelled sideways again."

"Sideways?"

"Through space, time and the alternate dimensions."  Arthur nodded slowly.  That was probably right, it made sense.  

Then he frowned.

"Why?"  

"How the hell should I know?  I think we're owed a drink." He added, then brightened.  "There's half a can of lager over there, on the table."  

Arthur shrugged, then froze. There had been a strange, peculiar little noise.  The sort of strange little noise that could be produced by, say-

"SO, how are you guys getting along?  Feeling better?"  

A door opening, maybe.  

They both turned to stare at the intruder.  He was a robot.  That much was blindingly obvious, from his metallic body to his pink plastic head.  He smiled disarmingly, and walked in.  He walked like a robot, too, as if he had a couple of extra knees in each leg, and maybe an elbow too for good measure.

Ford blinked at him.  Arthur shrugged.

"Uh, hi.  Do you-"  The robot smiled in what was obviously meant to be a reassuring way.  

"Good afternoon, sirs.  My name is Kryten and you are on the mining ship Red Dwarf.  Now, things may get a little complicated in a while so I'll just take a minute to answer any questions you might have."  He nodded encouragingly at them and Arthur smiled back.

"So.  You're a robot, then." Kryten nodded.

"Series four thousand mechanoid, sir."   

"And this is a ship.  An Earth ship?"  Kryten nodded again.  

 "Arthur?" Ford glared at him pointedly.  "Stop stating the obvious and let me ask the questions.  Where are we?"  

"On the mining ship Red Dwarf, sirs.  Six million years and we don't know how far away from Earth."  Ford nodded knowingly.  

"I see.  And, not that I'm saying I'm ungrateful for your timely rescue of me and my friend here, but just exactly why did you rescue us?" Kryten looked flakily surprised.  

"But surely sirs you didn't expect us to just leave you to die on that hideous planet?"  

Arthur groaned.  

"That hideous planet," he muttered annoyed, "was Earth."  

"No, no of course not." Ford continued, ignoring him.  "But why, I mean, surely you want us for some reason or another?  I mean-" He grinned again. "I'm a pretty wanted guy."  

"Actually, sir, we were only really  after him." He gestured at Arthur. "I suppose it was just luck that we managed to grab you as well." 

As Ford choked quietly on that unsettling news Arthur gaped in semi-horror.

"You want me?  What for?"

"That's what I was going to ask."  Ford mumbled sulkily.

"Well, we should be getting on now.  I'll just call the others, now that you're awake.  I'm sure you'll get on fine."  With that Kryten strode to the door and was gone.  

Arthur looked worriedly at Ford.  "What do you think he wants?"  Ford shrugged.

"Hey, the door's not locked…."

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* I daresay Aragog would disagree with that one.

^^^

Well, here you go.  The next chapter is nearly ready too, I'll update again in a few days.  Enjoy, and REVIEW!

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	4. Little Yellow BLobs are chasing me!

Meanwhile…..

Rincewind huddled in the corner underneath the table and pretended to be invisible.  He wished he'd led a better life, been more generous , maybe even taken up a religeon.  If he had, he rezoned, he wouldn't be here.  Wherever here was, of course.  The strange golem-like man had told him that he was on a spaceship, flying through space very fast, and he could come out from under the table and everything would be alright.  

Hah.

Rincewind knew from experience what people saying 'It'll be alright' usually meant.  They meant that now, at this particular moment in time, nothing especially horrible would happen, but that it was a definite possibility in the near future.  

As for the bit about the spaceship, he hadn't asked what that meant and didn't intend to.  He had a perfectly good imagination, however, and his own little extra-planetary experience had left him worshiping the ground he could walk on.  The idea that someone could just turn off the 'down'* seriously upset him, especially when  the  people supposedly in control of these things were such a bunch of serious idiots.    

There was something of a commotion happening at the front desk.   Rincewind couldn't see what it was from under the table of course, leaving him with a horrible conundrum.  Should he stick his head out and see what the fuss is about, or stay here where it's safe?

Ford glared at the door as if it had personally insulted him.  

"So," he spoke to it softly and menacingly, "So.  An open door.  No!" He suddenly shouted to Arthur, who hadn't moved or indeed done anything at all.  "Let me investigate the situation before you do something stupid.  I think I'm onto something here."  Arthur shrugged and turned back to the door.  The conversation with the robot had left Ford feeling decidedly let down, and he was dealing with it the only way he knew how.

A shout from beyond the open door caused both of them to jump.  At this distance the words were distorted but even Arthur could tell that whoever was shouting was very annoyed.  Very much so.

"Um."  Ford turned his suspicious  glare from the door to Arthur.  

"Yes?"  

"Should we go through the door?  It might be dangerous.  There could be anything on the other side.  It's very suspicious." He did a good impression of Ford glaring at the door, and Ford grinned.

"Of course not. It's just a door Arthur, honestly.  Let's go."  Arthur smiled as he followed Ford out.  Reverse psychology.  Brilliant stuff.

Finally, Rincewind risked a quick glance from under the table.  The shouting at least wasn't directed at him, in itself a novelty, and his legs were getting cramped.  There were three people at the desk-type-thing towards the front of the room, all pointing at moving blobs on the little window type thing set into the desk.  Curious he looked over.  

"Um."  They all turned to look at him and he took a nervous step back.  There was the badly dressed one with the diseased carpet aftershave, the guy who looked suspiciously cat-like, and the guy who, apparently, wasn't the guy called Ace, even though he looked just like him.  The guy who wasn't Ace snorted through a nose that a moon dragon** would be proud of and ignored him.

"What's that sort of green blobby thingummy, there?"  The guy who wasn't Ace sighed exasperatedly.   

"The green blob," he said in tones of extreme irritation, " is us.  The red blob there, "he pointed, "is a planet.  The yellow blobs there are- LISTER!"  He yelled again, despite the fact that the one called Lister (eau-de-old-carpet aftershave) was stood in front of him.

"What.  Is.  That."  He glared at the screen accusingly and prodded Lister in the jacket.  Lister shrugged.  

"I dunno, probably biriani.  Or maybe mango chutney."  He grinned in a way carefully designed to annoy Rimmer and wiped the screen with a sleeve.   Then he tapped the glass thoughtfully. 

 "Rimmer, you smeghead, it's inside the glass."  

Rimmer stared at the screen again.  

"They're still there.  We're being chased by little yellow blobs."

Rincewind stared at him.  "So," He said, cautiously, "That's bad, is it?" The guy who wasn't called Ace but was, as Rincewind  just now remembered, called Rimmer, looked at him. 

" I think I should go and check on the escape pods.  Make sure they're all in tip top condition, escape mechanism working properly, that sort of thing."  He got up to leave and Lister shook his head.  

"There aren't any escape pods."  Rimmer's eyebrows did a funny little dance all of their own.  

"It's regulations.  There should be one on C-deck, next to the towel cupboard." 

Lister shrugged.  

"I don't remember any escape pods on C-deck.  I don't think Starbug has any escape pods."  Rimmer glared.

"What-" Then he stopped.  He stared, staying very still, at a point just to the right of Lister's feet.  He cleared his throat nervously and very quietly asked on of the questions that has been plaguing mankind for centuries.  

"What the hell is that thing with all the legs?"  Lister looked down and jumped backwards.   Something creaked warningly.  

Rincewind gave it a brittle cheery smile.  

"Don't worry, it's just the Luggage.  It follows me everywhere."  Rimmer gave him another glare.  

"Your luggage." He muttered unhappily.  Then louder; "Your luggage runs around on hundreds of tiny little legs!"  Rincewind nodded and decided to try the effect of an annoying grin on Rimmer.  

"Well, yes.  It's a _magic_ box."   Rimmer opened his mouth to say something more and Lister interrupted him.  

"What about those?" He pointed at the yellow blobs on the screen that did indeed look like little blobs of mango chutney.  

"What do we do about those?"

."I don't smell anything, maybe it's a glitch."  

"Or maybe," Rimmer added, "They're psychotic aliens with two sets of teeth each who want to take us out to dinner."

"Dinner?" The cat butted in again. "In this jacket? Oh man, I've gotta change.  Is it formal?"

Arthur watched in semi-disbelief as Ford sidled down the corridor, slid across the wall to the doorway from which the sounds of a long-running argument were still issuing, and motioned for Arthur to follow him at a discrete distance.  He waved his arms desperately trying to convey that Arthur should follow him, that he should be quiet and as stealthy as he knew how to be, that he should please do his best to not tread on his bathrobe and trip over, and that he was holding Arthur entirely responsible for their being discovered.  

The unfortunate victim of Ford's random arm-wavings pulled himself up from where a stray elbow had knocked him and gave Ford a chipmunk smile.

"So.  You're awake, then."  Ford looked at him and grinned back.  

"No.  I walk in my sleep.  And talk.  And have fully interactive conversations."  Chipmunk man shrugged.  

"I'm Lister, that's Rimmer, Cat, Rincewind and his Luggage."  Ford nodded.

"I'm Ford, this is Arthur.  Where are we?"  Arthur gave Lister an apologetic smile, then stopped.  Lister had carried on talking but he wasn't listening anymore, he was too busy staring at the people in the other room.  The one he'd called Cat was wearing, well, weird clothes, but the other two were far more worrying.  

Ignoring Ford and Lister, who seemed to be doing some kind of bonding thing, he strode over to – Rimmer, was it?

"Um, Hello?"  The one he thought might be Rimmer looked up at him and shook his head disapprovingly.  The one that was possibly Rincewind  looked him up and down critically.

"You must be Arthur.  I'd welcome you but there's not much point seeing as we're about to die horribly anyway.  It was nice knowing you."  Arthur stared at him briefly.

"Uhm.  What are we about to die of?  I feel fine." He paused when it filtered through that he was talking to two men who looked almost exactly like him, one of whom was wearing a tall pointy battered hat with the word wizard embroidered on it.  "Well, maybe not fine but I certainly don't feel like I'm about to die."  

Possibly Rincewind  shrugged.  "I never knew curry stains could be so dangerous."


	5. It's a million to one chance, but it jus...

Chapter 5

"Curry stains?" Arthur looked down at the screen as Rincewind pointed, and swallowed. 

"Uh, Ford, could you come here a minute? Please?"  He backed away from the screen as though it was just about to bite him.  

Ford stared at the screen, then tapped the glass thoughtfully.  

"So, I take it we're the green blob then?" he pointedly ignored Rimmer's exasperated snort. "and the red one is a planet, so the yellow ones are…" he trailed off and turned to look at Arthur.  "Relax; it's probably just a glitch.  You people aren't very good at building this kind of stuff."  Arthur nodded, looking relieved.

"Well, that's fort-" then his brain caught up with his ears.  "What do you mean 'you people'?"  Ford shrugged.  

"Don't take the wrong way, I'm sure it's not your fault.  You're just not very good at this whole space kind of thing."  

There was a diplomatic* pause, which Cat interrupted.

"You know," he said thoughtfully, "I don't think it is a glitch.  I'm getting something.  Something big."  He sniffed the air.  Arthur and Rincewind looked at him weirdly, whilst Ford just looked weird.   "Something big and ugly.  Eeeow!  It stinks!"  Rimmer swallowed.  

"I knew it!" he grinned triumphantly at Lister.  "Hah!" Lister sighed.  

"Not again, Rimmer we've done this millions of times…"

"Aliens!"

"Rimmer, for the last time.  There are no aliens.  There never were."  Rimmer glared at him whilst behind him Ford and Arthur exchanged incredulous looks. 

"And how do you know?  For all you know there's aliens on this ship right now!" Ford choked.

"Rimmer, for smeg's sake.  Every time something slightly weird happens on this ship you say its aliens.  Used up all the toilet paper?  Aliens.  Someone hid your Hammond Organ c.d. collection?  Aliens.  Huge garbage disposal pod in space? Aliens.  Give it a rest! There are no smegging aliens!"  

Rimmer shook his head.  

"You don't believe in anything, do you Listy? You know that's a terrible way to-"  

Finally Arthur could stand it no more.  He interrupted. 

"SO what are they anyway?"  Cat shrugged.

"Beats me, bud.  I've never smelt anything like it before."  Rimmer grinned excitedly.

"Of course not! They're aliens.  They're, you know, alien.  You wouldn't have smelt anything like them because they're alien."  Ford smirked at Rimmer.

"SO, you're pretty well informed on this alien thing then?" Rimmer smiled smugly.

"Well, I-"

There was a noise.  Underneath screeching static a voice that could easily belong to a cross between Godzilla and the swamp monster spoke.  

"Hello Earth people."  Rimmer frowned. 

 "What did he say?"  Lister shrugged and Arthur motioned to him to be quiet.  

"Hello Earth people." The voice said again.  "Hello Ford." It added.  Ford swallowed.  "We are from the Intergalactic Bypass Commission on Vogon.  There has been a minor clerical error." – there was a pause and the sound of rustling paper. " A minor clerical error resulting in the unfortunate survival of a number of component parts of the computer Earth.  In order for us to collect payment for it's demolition, I'm afraid we will have to destroy your ship and everyone on it."  Ford frowned.  

"What about me?" he asked unhappily.  

"I said everyone on the ship, you wazzock.  That includes you.  We have been paid a small fortune by the Guide to make certain that you can never charge expenses to them ever again."  The transmission cut off.  Arthur made a small unhappy noise and Ford grinned at the Red Dwarf crew apologetically.  

"Aliens!" Rimmer grinned.  "I told you! Aliens-"

"Aliens are about to blow up your ship, yes.  Well done." Ford added sourly.  

"What?  What the hell are you talking about?"  Cat looked confused (okay, more so than normal). 

"Didn't you-"  Ford began.

"Of course!  No fish!  They don't have any fish!"  Arthur grinned at having worked out the communication problem, then remembered that he was about to get blown up into little bits.

Lister stared at the two of them.

"Okay.  Let's all sit down and you two can tell us what the smeg is going on."  

Arthur looked at Ford.  "How long-"

"It should take them about fifteen minutes to warm up the Mega-Xterminatator Ray.  We've got time."  He looked at his watch.  "I think."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ford quickly told them what the Vogons had said, hindered only briefly by Arthur's attempt to tell them about the Babel fish.  Finally, he'd finished and Rimmer spoke.

"So.  They are aliens then."  He smirked at Lister.  "I was right."  Ford rolled his eyes.

"I don't know why you're getting so excited about this whole alien thing anyway.  I mean, we're all aliens in a way

"Some of us more so than others." Arthur interjected.  Rimmer frowned.

"But just think of the amazing technological advances we could make with the help of aliens!  We could build a better-"  Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Look, just because they're aliens doesn't mean they're all wise and have this wonderful technology and stuff.  It's not like bloody Star-Trek, you know.  Most of them have deep-seated psychological problems, and they're annoying and crazy like people everywhere.  And most of the technology's just useless and annoying anyway."  He wound down gradually and stopped.  Ford looked hurt.

"You never said you felt like that about it." He accused.  Arthur shrugged.

"Yes I did, all the time.  You just never shut up long enough to actually listen to what I was saying."

There was an embarrassed silence, then Kryten spoke.

"Uh, sirs, I don't wish to alarm you at all, but there appears to be another ship approaching."  

"Is it the Wildfire?" Lister asked hopefully.  Rimmer snorted.

"Uh, no sir.  I cannot read the identification code.  It appears to be written in another language.  The ship seems to be distorting space around itself."

"Distorting space?  Are you sure it's not the Wildfire."

"Quite certain.  But, there's something odd going on around it's hull."

"Show me."  A picture of a big silver impressive-looking ship filled the screen on the wall of the cabin.  

"It appears to be firing some sort of beam at the, uh, Vogon ship."  

"It's a weapon?"  

"It doesn't appear to be.  The space around the Vogon ship is being distorted."

There was a noise like a deflated balloon popping.  They stared at the screen in disbelief.

Kryten tutted.  

"The Vogon ship appears to have turned into a giant gelatinous mass, consisting of glucose syrup, flour and-"  Rincewind rolled his eyes.

"It's a giant marshmallow."  Ford suddenly broke into a grin.  He nudged Arthur. 

"Hey, uh, robot guy-"

"Kryten."

"Yeah, Kryten.  Could you tell me what the probability of that happening is?"  Kryten shrugged.

"Approximately a million to one, sirs."  Ford grinned some more and Arthur, catching on finally, groaned and banged his head on the table.  Rincewind began a little countdown in his head.

"A giant marshmallow? Why did it do that?"  Rimmer looked baffled.  Lister shrugged.

"Maybe million to one chances crop up sometimes.  What the chance that the ship is friendly?"  Kryten looked thoughtful.

"Oddly, the probability is almost exactly a million to one sir."   

"It's a million to one chance, but it just might work.."

"Three." Muttered Rincewind darkly.  They ignored him.  

"Can we talk to them?  Find out who they are?"  Kryten nodded.  

"We're broadcasting now sirs."  Rimmer cleared his throat importantly.

"Greetings unidentified alien vessel.  We-"  A crackle of static interrupted him.

"Stow it, monkeyman.  Hey Ford, you there?"  Arthur swore quietly.  

"Hey, Zaphod, how you been?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

End of chapter.  

Authors note= Well, it had to happen.  Incidentally, yes, I did mean Agrajag, thanks to Ponder Stibbons for pointing that out.  I do appreciate you telling me when I make these annoying little mistakes.  Thanks also Trillium, I did mean Wizzard.  

Thank you to everyone who is reviewing my stuff, you're great and I love you too, raw salmon notwithstanding.  Apologies to everyone who's waiting impatiently for something exciting to happen to Rincewind, I know I've been concentrating mostly on Arthur and Ford at the moment.  I promise, things will happen in the next chapter.


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